


Death Night

by KaibaSlaveGirl34



Series: The Crow; Brandon Lee [6]
Category: The Crow (1994)
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Contemplation, Explicit Language, F/M, Guns, Killing, Laughter, Murder, Swords, TV Tropes, Wordcount: 100-2.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 07:45:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18586855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaibaSlaveGirl34/pseuds/KaibaSlaveGirl34
Summary: Gideon discovers what kind of person Top Dollar really is.





	Death Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Harry2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harry2/gifts), [HongjoongsHoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HongjoongsHoe/gifts).



> Disclaimer: The geniuses at Miramax Pictures own the film The Crow. I own the fanfics that I cook up from time to time.

**Death Night**

Gideon’s “appointment” was not going well… at least for him. He was holding his own for the moment, but too many parts of him hurt like almost anything he could think of… and he was scared witless. He knew Grange was a dangerous guy, but Top Dollar’s reputation gave him cold shivers. And he didn’t like the way that chink chick kept looking at him like he was an insect on the bottom of her shoe (or something along those lines). And that goshdarn rock music from the club below — it was shaking the whole building. It made it hard to concentrate on what he was saying.

“I got stabbed! I shot the sonuvabitch! I watched the bullet hole close by itself! And then my business gets blown up real good!” He leered insolently at the chick. “Other than that, my day sucked.”

“Yeah. I saw him too,” Grange said quietly. “He had a guitar. He winked at me before he jumped out of a fourth-floor window like he had wings.”

“He **winked** at you?” Top Dollar dryly replied, stalking across the room like a big jungle cat. “Tsk! Musicians!” Then he fixed Gideon with the kind of look that a cat gives to its dinner. “What else did you see?”

But Gideon wasn’t about to be intimidated... or at least, not **appear** to be intimidated. “So far I haven’t heard shit about what you’re gonna do about all this crap,” he snarled. “I mean, what do I get? My livelihood got flushed away and went swirling...”

“You ain’t lost everything,” Top Dollar purred threateningly, and Gideon pulled back in fear. But he reacted to that threat as he did to all threats — he attacked.

“Yeah?” he hissed, struggling to rise to his feet. “And maybe **you’re** not such a big shot eith—” But Grange shoved him roughly back down into the chair, wringing an anguished “Jesus!” out of him. Gideon had forgotten one important fact: the only reason his tactics of attack had worked in the past was because he was “under the dragon’s wing” (as they preferred to call it). They weren’t going to work against the dragon — Top Dollar — himself.

“Fair enough,” Top Dollar ignored his bluster, then with a look of cruel anticipation, tossed him a small object. “Catch!” he said casually, walking away.

Gideon had caught the thing reflexively before its repulsively sticky texture made him drop it in disgust, but when he saw what it was, he was horrified. “Fuck!” he yelped, his own eyes bugging out as he stared at the bloody human eyeball rolling on the table in front of him. “Jesus!” he whispered, and this time it was almost a prayer.

“Say hello to the last fella who wouldn’t co-operate with me,” Top Dollar said ominously, and Gideon had a terrible feeling he was serious.

“What’re you telling me… you’re telling me this thing is real?” he gasped. Whoa — what kind of _loony-tunes_ were these guys?

“All the power in the world resides in the eyes, fella — sometimes they’re more useful than the people who bear them.” Top Dollar’s rough voice boomed compellingly as he went to a closed display case and pulled it open. Inside was an intricate display of swords and knives, and Gideon’s pawnbroker’s eye told him he was looking at a few hundred K worth of weaponry. It didn’t reassure him at all to see Top Dollar select one of the swords and brandish it like he knew how to use it.

“You’re directly outta your fuckin’ mind! You know that?” Gideon blustered, shock and disgust making him even less temperate than usual.

“Yeah,” Top Dollar agreed dangerously. “Eyes see! It’s one of the most important things I learned from my sister.”

“Your sister?” Gideon almost choked. “She’s supposed to be your **sister**?” The chink chick? Now he knew Top Dollar was crazy. He started to laugh, not even trying to hide his contempt.

“My father’s daughter… that’s right.” Top Dollar looked narrowly at Gideon, hiding his reaction to the insult as he walked around the table to stand close to him. “What’s the matter? You don’t see the resemblance?” He looked at the woman; Gideon could sense some kind of silent communication between them, and his skin crawled at the idea.

Then, with a sudden swift turn, Top Dollar had the sword point pressed against his throat! Grange’s hands pushed down relentlessly on his shoulders, and even the chick, sitting on the table, got into the act by pressing his shoulder back with one elegantly shod foot.

“Now, let’s take it from the top, friend, with a lot of detail. Whaddya say?” The reddish glow of Top Dollar’s eyes and the cold, controlled anger in his rough voice told Gideon that he’d blustered a little too long. With real terror, he hurried to follow Top Dollar’s command.

“He had a bird with him — nearly picked my face off,” he rushed to get it all out. “He told me to tell T-Bird that death was on its way, whatever the fuck that means. Draven… he said his name was Eric Draven.” He eyed the sword fearfully. “Want to relax that thing now?” he grimaced; after all, he’d told them all he knew.

But Top Dollar wasn’t done with him yet. “And this ‘bird-man’ — he just _happened_ to let you live, huh?” He turned away in disgust, but at least he took the sword with him. Then he looked back. “You sure you ain’t makin’ all of this up just to save your own ass?”

With the sword point removed from his neck, Gideon’s relief turned into a careless rage. “I ain’t makin’ all this up,” he snarled angrily. “I ain’t **twisted** like you two fucks!”

The chick took her foot off of him then, as a chill descended over the room, and Top Dollar looked at him with hooded eyes. “Alright,” he said softly to Grange, who took his hands away from Gideon’s shoulders and stepped back. _Well, **that** certainly got their attention,_ Gideon thought smugly.

“A boy and his bird… awful touching,” Top Dollar said sardonically. 

“Yeah,” Gideon added, and then smiled before he started laughing — the stupid twits didn’t even know when they’d been insulted! Honestly, even Top Dollar was chuckling now.

It was the last sound he ever heard.

With the graceful strength of a trained swordsman, Top Dollar spun around and thrust the sword completely through the ugly little pawnbroker’s throat, then stood watching him convulse grotesquely in his death throes.

“For fuck’s sake, die, will ya!” he shouted impatiently. “Gimme that thing,” he gestured for one of Grange’s guns and blasted two bullets into Gideon, finally stilling the twitching body. “Thanks,” he said casually, handing it back — he’d use a gun when he had to, but he much preferred his blades.

Myca stared with cool speculation at the corpse before them — she’d take the eyes, of course, but otherwise it was just a damned nuisance. He embraced her sensuously, kissing her with a hot, erotic urgency — killing someone, even a slug like Gideon, always made him want her more than ever.

“Funboy said he saw a black bird too — a big one. Then he choked to death on his own blood,” the black man said calmly, unmoved by the grisly corpse. “I’ll have the janitor… come on up.” He left the room.

Myca turned her enigmatic face to her brother and shook her head slowly. “The black bird is the key! It is as I have feared — the Watcher has come.”

“Yeah, so it would seem. But it doesn’t sound like he’s much interested in us, now, is he?”

“It is only a matter of time.”

Top Dollar strode impatiently to the display case and restored the sword to its proper place. “Let ‘im come, then. I’m lookin’ forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> RIP Jon Polito (December 29, 1950 — September 1, 2016). He may be gone, but he’ll always be remembered in the movies and TV shows he starred in.
> 
> Nice feedback is very much appreciated, of course.. :)


End file.
